


Their meetings, in secret, filled with things unsaid

by Winga



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Well basically it could be any other pairing, but that's how I wrote it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-06
Updated: 2015-06-06
Packaged: 2018-04-03 05:10:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4088140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Winga/pseuds/Winga
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They love, really, but it's hard to know when they don't speak.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Their meetings, in secret, filled with things unsaid

They meet each other in secret – in Muggle motels mostly, so neither is recognised. If they ever are recognised there, there's a chance, a high chance, that those recognising them would not want to be known themselves so the secret's safe, with all parties, even though neither knows they'd ever been seen by someone who knew them.

They meet in secret because they fear the world and because they hate the world and because the world expects from them what neither can really give. They think they're in love but neither says the words, neither is willing to risk it, willing to risk what ifs and what nots.

There's fire in their meetings, in their hands traveling along the other's body, in their kisses, in their eyes. There's fire in them, the fire that keeps them going, keeps them keeping it a secret from even those they love the most, after each other. The fire burns them, sometimes, reminds them that this is only temporary that quite likely, quite probably he'll find a spouse, or he'll fall out of love, or he'll decide he'll need to do something, something with his life, and both of them think like this, think too much like this when all they would need, all they require, are the words.

Such little words they are. Such powerful words.

They hold each other after their meetings, their passion filled meetings, their meetings that are filled with promises, unsaid promises, unbroken promises. They hold each other and pretend that the world doesn't exist, they do this for hours, or days, sometimes they keep at it for a week and they never really talk, they chat about innocent things, about their friends and maybe work, and they know each other, they do know each other quite well even though they pretend that they keep their distances because – well, it's just temporary.

It takes them months, months of secrecy, of meetings arranged through owls, of meetings kept so hidden that even though their friends know not who, they see something's bothering them. It takes them months to reach the end of this easygoing secrecy where both feel like they need to keep it to themselves, not to reveal anything to the other, takes them months until the bubble bursts and they start a shouting match, and maybe there are wands involved, maybe there aren't.

But in the end they're both steaming, they're both furious and they part their ways, they think that's it, but when they're alone they realise how miserable they are, how sad they are, how much they mean to each other. And it's one or the other that sends an owl, sends an apology and the other one replies with their own apology, and they arrange another meeting and they think they won't speak about it and they don't.

And they continue in cycles.

For quite some time.

Until one of them decides no more. Says no more. Tells that this is it or that they have to talk about it, they have to discuss their rules and blurts out the words, accidentally, has been thinking about it lately and doesn't even realise what they've done until the other, the other stares and stares and says something but it's so quiet and almost lost in the background noises.

But then it's repeated. And repeated. And the months, or is it already over a year, almost two that's gone past, they're suddenly brighter and what's coming seems brighter, too, and they're in each others' arms and there are kisses, light kisses, more passionate kisses, raw kisses. All around their faces, necks.

There's wishes and there's promises yet they continue in secret because they've got used to it and because it's easier, they think, but with this newlyfound information neither likes, really, to keep those closest to them in the dark, because they're worried, the loved ones, because they want all the best for them, and they want to tell that they have all the best already, that the best things about them are each other.

So, at some point, now that they've started talking, because they need to do that, they've realised, they decide to tell their friends, invite them to dinner, and they do. Somehow the friends aren't as surprised as they thought – sure somewhat surprised because they hadn't been seen together at many places after school, not in public. But they're happy, all of them, to have found happiness, and they think that maybe, one day, they might make their relationship known to more people.

But they're happy, now, to be with each other, to have each other. It doesn't bother them to keep their separate houses, to still sometimes meet at motels but mostly spend the time in each others' company in one of their houses. It doesn't bother them to avoid questions about possible spouses. Well, maybe a little, but not enough for them to want to shake their happiness.

So they continue as they have. Just with enough support, just with more than enough love.


End file.
